


Missing the Mark

by The_Kinky_Pet



Series: Stories in the Power & Paradox Universe [7]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 16:52:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5213537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Kinky_Pet/pseuds/The_Kinky_Pet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes even the finest archer misses the mark.  Metaphorically that is--Clint would never miss an actual target.</p><p>An out-take from chapter 47 of Power and Paradox</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing the Mark

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING / PLEASE NOTE: I read no comics that feature Hawkeye, so all characterizations come from MCU, fannon, and my own inclinations and narrative desires. This characterization may not be to everyone's taste. In my head, Clint's more of a sniper and special ops than a spy; Natasha's the one who specializes in psychology, subtlety, human interactions, and covert ops... You've been warned! :)

Clint Barton had experienced some very strange and very awkward breakfasts in his life. So to say this one was the worst (though not the most dangerous) was no small claim. It was like walking into an episode of The Twilight Zone.

A Twilight Zone where Tony served the team breakfast and was a domestic little darling. (What the actual fuck? Since when did Tony serve everybody breakfast?) And there he was—all dotingly affectionate, showering the Captain with smiles and little touches, but he had to practically beg Cap for even a kiss on the cheek in return. Tony hardly said a thing while Cap focused on telling Bruce every minute detail of the fancy dinner Tony’d taken him to. The spices! The wine! The décor! Sounded really swanky—a private garden table?

Clint dropped his gaze to the newspaper again with a frown and forced another bite of frittata down his throat.

And Cap couldn’t even get the words out! It was Tony who’d said they were ‘dating;’ Cap just hadn’t contradicted him. Cap said “we’re not breaking any rules.” And, well, ‘dating’ was a pretty flexible term . . . 

Clint’s fork came down to hard on his plate with a clatter that drew a (subtly) disapproving look from Natasha.

How was Bruce cool with this? Bruce was probably Tony’s closest friend on the team! And Nat—she seemed fine with it too, judging by the menacing looks she’d been casting him since his less than enthusiastic response. Somebody had to do something or this would end in tragedy, and it looked like it fell to him. 

The whole thing felt wrong and made his guts twist and churn. 

But, hey, Cap wasn’t a bad guy! If Clint took him aside for a tactful word . . . (He probably just hadn’t thought things through.) Sure Cap could be a bit of a throwback, but it hadn’t seemed to prevent him being a generally decent teammate, to Tony included. And after months without even being on a first-name-basis, Steve and Tony had finally gotten to be cordial, even buddies, Clint thought. (Being buddies, though, didn’t mean Cap could make Tony his that-other-kind-of-buddy.)  


“--wanna get to my run,” Cap was saying. “I’ve sort of got a new running buddy and I don’t want to miss him.”  


(Now was his chance!)  


“Hey, Cap?” Clint asked, “You got a minute?”  


“Well,” Steve said, frowning a little. “I did want to meet my—“  


“Yeah, no worries,” Clint said. “Only take a minute—I’ll ride the elevator with you.”  


“Ok,” Steve said. He turned to Tony. “I’ll see you later?”  


“Yeah,” Tony agreed, tilting his head to ask for a kiss. Cap gave him a quick peck on the cheek and walked away.  
As they stepped into the elevator, Cap looked at Clint with expectant curiosity.

(Keep cool, man, keep cool.)

“So,” Clint began, “You and Tony, huh?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “That’s right.”

There was a long awkward pause; Steve just looked expectant.

“So, look,” Clint began, “I get that you’ve had a lot of adjusting to do. To the twenty-first century.” (As if Cap might need clarification on that.) “It must be disorienting.”

Cap dropped his gaze, brow furrowing. “It can be,” he acknowledged. 

“Yeah,” Clint said, eager to sound conciliatory. “And lots of stuff has changed. Socially and stuff. I get it—things were different back in the day. But we’re pals, right? So, I wanna give you some advice.”

“See the thing is— Tony,” Clint began awkwardly. “He seems invincible and he’s really loud about his whole sex-positive liberationism and casual stuff, but he’s-- That doesn’t mean-- Just, he’s not casual with people he’s close to. Like Pepper—they’ve never! He’s not like that, ok? Tony wouldn’t start something casual with a teammate.” 

Steve just kept nodding along—no sign of concern, damnit.

“I don’t want to see him get hurt.” Clint shook his head and tried to say it calmly: “So, just, back off, ok?”

“Back off?” Cap repeated incredulously, and perhaps a little outraged.

“Yeah, back off,” Clint repeated, tone challenging. “Look—just ‘cause Tony’s not the ‘white wedding suit’ and babies in the suburbs type, doesn’t mean you can—can just—” 

“Wha— What are you--?” Cap was stammering and looking at him with this idiotic, wide-eyed shock. (Like he didn’t know exactly what Clint meant by that.) Something about his pretty boy innocent act made Clint want to punch him. 

“Come off it,” Clint snapped, “You think I don’t know how things were? That there were the good little subs you’d marry, and the naughty ones you’d just—“

Clint took a startled step back and fell into a defensive stance without conscious thought as Cap leapt forward, raised his hands abruptly, and then—froze. Cap shuddered visibly and took a deep breath. 

“How dare you,” Cap hissed. “How dare you talk about Tony like that?”

The look of cold fury seemed foreign on Steve’s face. 

Clint swallowed.

Steve took a startled breath and his eyes went wide. He looked horrified as he asked, “You said all that to Tony, didn’t you?”

Clint’s face must have given something away because Steve growled—rage stamped on his face—“What the hell is the matter with you? Don’t you think he’s been through enough without people—who’re supposed to be his friends—piling it on too? I had no idea where that crap was coming from, but trust me, whatever you said, he read between the lines and heard you loud and clear. How could you?”

Clint’s stomach plummeted. (He’d upset Tony? Really? Shit, shit, shit.)

After a moment the fury seemed to melt out of Steve, though, leaving him tired and sad. “That’s really what you think of me?” he asked. “That I’d, what? Use Tony and then toss him aside? That I don’t lo— care deeply about him?” 

Cap shook his head. “You may know Tony well enough to realize he’d never be causal with a teammate, but you don’t know me at all.” 

They reached the ground floor and Steve took a step through the elevator, then paused to add softly over his shoulder: “I thought we were friends.” 

The doors closed again and Clint was alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Comments are a delight and thrill me to my very core! :)


End file.
